Abusing Emotions
by shortsandshirts
Summary: Hermione's dad has lost his mind and his sanity. Who can help? duh. think smart one. DMHG
1. enter the nightmare

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Today in school, I had "English Lessons" with my friend. She's teaching me how to talk 'English' style. So far, I've learned proper dining etiquette, proper speech, proper addressing styles, and a couple of ways to say some words. She's from England, and she's from around Orlando Bloom's hometown, and she has a couple of friends in England whose parents know Orlando Bloom. What do I think about this situation? I think they're lucky duckies. For this story, I decided to go for a different, changed Hermione. Instead of happy, carefree Hermione. Let's go to the dark side...... Shall I escort you?  
  
She got off the train, and quickly exited the overcrowding station. She walked into the Muggle world after a short goodbye to Harry and Ron. She saw her dad, and ran towards him yelling, "DAD! It's me!"  
  
He didn't say anything though. He just stared at her through eyes that were cold, hollow, empty, solemn..........expressionless. He didn't say anything, just picked up her stuff, and walked mechanically towards the car. All through the car ride home, neither of them said anything. He stared at the road through lifeless eyes.  
  
'Like a robot.' She thought.  
  
When they got home, she ran in through the front door, yelling, "Mum! Mum! I'm home mum! MUM! Mum?"  
  
"She's not here." Her father said quietly. He was standing in the doorway, looking very weary.  
  
"What do you mean she's not here? Where is she?"  
  
"Well 'Mione. Look. I know you're going to take this hard......" his voice trailed off at this point.  
  
"Mum?" Hermione half asked, half exclaimed in barely a whisper.  
  
Her dad was silent.  
  
Suddenly, something clicked. "She's........dead?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Yes." Her dad said in an inaudibly small tone.  
  
"No..... She can't be dead." Hermione said, thinking that this was some big charade, and that her mom would jump out any minute yelling, "Gotcha!"  
  
But the tears on her fathers face didn't let up, and they were pouring down his face in streams.  
  
"I'm sorry." Her dad managed to say through his tears. "We were driving back two weeks before you were going to arrive back home, and there was a drunk driver, and when it was our turn to go, he came zooming towards us at 120 mph. We didn't see him coming, heading towards us. He crashed into the passenger side in which your mother was sitting in. Nothing done could help her afterwards."  
  
"It's alright dad. I understand. It's just............ it's such a shock to me..."  
  
Her dad smiled at her sadly. "God. I loved her so much. Why'd she have to leave?"  
  
"Dad, everyone has their life's beginning, and their end. Mom's fate was just not meant for a long life. Don't worry. She may be dead, be we still have memories. Memories that are happy, and not sad."  
  
Her dad was silent, and Hermione decided to go up to her room, and unpack for the summer. Deciding to leave him there, and not bother him in his state.  
  
After two weeks, she decided to go talk to her dad. He was not eating well, he never talked, and he looked like he didn't sleep at all. He was loosing weight at a rapid pace, and his clothes now hung loosely on him. It was around 7:30 in the morning, and so she decided she would go find him. Too late. The door swung open before she could walk halfway towards the door. There, in the frame of the door stood her dad, snarling.  
  
"D-dad?" Hermione questioned, her voice faltering at his sudden change in attitude.  
  
No reply.  
  
"Dad?" Hermione repeated, more firmly, but still scared.  
  
Her dad walked into the room, slamming the door shut behind him with a loud BANG that made Hermione jump.  
  
"It's all your fault" he hissed at her.  
  
"Dad? What's all my fault?"  
  
"It's your fault that she died."  
  
"But....how? How could I have killed her? I was at school." Hermione replied, knowing that he was talking about mum.  
  
Her father had no answer. He just moved menacingly towards, and reached into his pocked. Hermione froze. What was he doing? As if reading her mind, he slowly pulled out something. Something that was hidden in his clutched hand.  
  
He snarled at her, and said in a sickly evil voice, "Well my dear, look what I have..."  
  
He unfurled his hand, and revealed his pocket knife. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. What was he doing with his pocket knife? Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed the knife, opened it, and threateningly moved towards her, with his right hand on the handle of the knife, and his left, in the middle of the air, stretched tensely out. He smiled, revealing his extremely dirty teeth.  
  
"Dad?" Hermione asked, fear evident in her voice and in her eyes.  
  
He lunged forward, grabbing onto her upper arm with brutal force. After a couple of seconds of struggling, Hermione found herself on her knees, and her father grasping her hair and holding the knife to her throat.  
  
"You see, my dear? You are too weak, and I am strong. It all fits perfectly. Like master like slave." He chuckled crazily.  
  
"Dad?" Hermione repeated again.  
  
Slowly, her father dug the edge of the blade into the flesh under her chin, drawing blood. Hermione screamed, feeling the blood trickle slowly down her neck, leaving a trail of warm nothing in its wake......  
  
Reviews please! I actually took a lot of joy writing this. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah...............  
  
At least 10 reviews till I write/post the next chapter....................................... 


	2. Good news

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I promised that I would only post this after two chapters, but I take that back. I couldn't wait to post.  
  
Last Time: Slowly, her father dug the edge of the blade into the flesh under her chin, drawing blood. Hermione screamed, feeling the blood trickle slowly down her neck, leaving a trail of warm nothing in its wake......  
  
Over the summer, Hermione was beat every day. And every day, her dad showed up in her room, drunk, brandishing his pocket knife. His drinking problem was his only escape from his misery, and Hermione had grown to hate him. She hated him with all her heart. She could not wait to get back to Hogwarts. Her father had sent back every owl that carried a letter to her.  
  
She had bruises lining her jaw, and hand-prints on her face. Her neck was blue and purple from all the strangling she had been put through, and her legs were covered in scars and bruises likewise. Her midriff was dotted with large black and purple bumps, and she had become very skinny. She couldn't wait until September when she could go back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts. Her real home.  
  
Her father was out. Hermione heard a tapping on the window, and saw an owl. She walked over and opened the window, allowing in rays if sunlight, along with a scrawny brown owl. She saw the top of the letter tied to the owl's leg, and moved quickly to open it. The letter read;  
  
Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,  
  
We are proud to inform you that you have been chosen as Head Girl for the coming year in Hogwarts, School of Magic and Wizardry. We will not reveal who the Head Boy is, as we like to keep it a surprise. Enclosed is your badge, which you must wear on the train. Speaking of which, on the ride to school in one week, you will have your own compartment with the Head Boy, and you are required to stay in it together. Further directions will be given to you when you arrive at the school. Once again, Congratulations.  
  
Sincerely, Professor Minerva McGonagall  
  
Head Girl?! She peered into the lumpy package that she had just realized was there. She opened the top, and peered in. There, in all its glory, was a gold badge that read, "Head Girl". She squealed in delight. She picked it up carefully with her small hands, and cradled it in the nook of her elbow. She heard the front door slam close downstairs. Her dad was home! Quickly, she stuffed the badge and the letter in the secret panel in her closet. She hastily shoved the owl outside, and sat on her bead, waiting for her dad to come bounding up the steps with his knife, and start beating her again.  
  
True enough, seconds later, he threw open the door, and slammed it shut. He had the same insane look in his eyes, and in his hand, instead of a knife was a beer bottle. He came swiftly towards her, raised the glass, and brought it down over her head.  
  
Sorry this chapter was so short. I just thought that was a good place to end... It's okay if you disagree. I'm writing the next chapter as fast as I can. 


	3. The question

Disclaimer: I do not Own Harry Potter.  
  
Last Time: True enough, seconds later, he threw open the door, and slammed it shut. He had the same insane look in his eyes, and in his hand, instead of a knife was a beer bottle. He came swiftly towards her, raised the glass, and brought it down over her head.  
  
Hermione woke to darkness. She groggily got to her feet, and the world seemed to spin around her. She collapsed on the ground in a heap. Where was she? Suddenly, she heard footsteps getting louder, coming closer. She frantically looked around for an escape, and saw a door right in front of her. She tried opening it, but the damn thing just wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the door burst open, throwing her out. Her father stood, towering above her, laughing like a maniac.  
  
"I open the door to my closet, to find my daughter come plummeting out."  
  
Hermione knew better than to talk back, but she knew perfectly why she was in his closet. He had put her there. But why had he put her there? She racked her brain for memories. She found none. Then, as if on a spurge, she remembered that she was on her bed after getting the Head badge, and her father coming in with a beer bottle, and hitting her over the head. The last thing she recalled seeing was his pale face, with dark circles underneath, his mouth spread wide into an evil laugh, with his yellow and black teeth clearly showing.  
  
The badge! She had to get to Hogwarts, but knew that it would take a great amount of effort. Her father had taken to beating her over and over every day, making new bruises over bruises from the previous day. She was in constant pain, but she knew she had to get there. She just had to. It was her last year, and she wanted to make the best of it.  
  
Her last and final week at home went by like any normal day. Wake up, get beaten, eat half of a banana as breakfast, get beaten, do nothing, eat little bits of scrap for lunch, do nothing, eat more scraps for dinner, and get beaten before getting sent to my room for bed.  
  
Finally, the day that she had been waiting for came. Today was the day that she, Hermione Granger would run away from her 'home' to the train station and ride to her true home, Hogwarts. When her father went out, she grabbed her stuff quickly, and headed out the door after a couple of strong cover-up spells for her bruises. The spell was supposed to last for at least 10 hours. So she was good to go.  
  
She walked to the train station, found Platform 9¾, and easily slid through the gate, and into a world of magic. She found the Heads' compartment, and wandered out, hoping to see some old friends before the train left in 10 minutes, and maybe even find out who the Head Boy was.  
  
She was walking around, when suddenly, she heard her name being called.  
  
"Hermione! Oi! 'Mione!" shouted the voice of Ron.  
  
Hermione spun around to greet her best friends, Harry and Ron. She gave them both monster hugs, feeling happy for the first time since her mom died.  
  
"Hey Hermione" said Harry, her raven-haired friend, excitement flashing in his stunningly green eyes. "Finally, our last year. Then, we're out on our own in this big world we live in," he chuckled good-naturedly.  
  
"Oh yeah, Hermione. I almost forgot to tell you, but your dad is outside, waiting for you. He told us to tell you that you forgot something in the car.  
  
Hermione's happy feeling dropped immediately after she heard what Ron had said. She was going to be in big trouble.  
  
"Thanks guys." She told them with a very fake cheery smile.  
  
They didn't catch the charade she was playing.  
  
"I'll be right back then." She informed them.  
  
"Alright. Just make sure you're back before the train leaves."  
  
"I will Harry. Thanks."  
  
With that, she turned around and fought against the wave of people entering, so she could make her way out. Her heart was sinking. She hadn't come with her dad in the car. That could only mean one thing. He had found out about her running away. She was going to have to confront this sooner or later, and she'd rather it now. She made her way out, and saw her dad standing in the corner, leaning on his car. She took her time getting there, knowing that, by the time she escaped him, she could be physically damaged.  
  
When she reached him, she drew in a raspy breath, and bravely asked, "What do you want from me you bloody bastard?" 


	4. Daddy's little surprise

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! How many bloody times must I tell you?!  
  
Last time: When she reached him, she drew in a raspy breath, and bravely asked, "What do you want from me you bloody bastard?"  
  
Hermione waited for an answer. Finally, one came.  
  
"Now, now there. Is that any way to talk to your father? Your loving father who brought you up affectionately? Your father who cared for you? Your father who loved you? Tsk tsk tsk. The manners of teens these days."  
  
"Well? What do you want? Answer the bloody question! Stop stalling."  
  
"Actually, if you must know, I came to give you this."  
  
With that said, he moved forward a couple of inches so he was just a couple of inches in front of her. Hermione thought he might pull out his knife any minute now, and start slashing her, but oh, how wrong she was. He pulled back his right arm, fist clamped into a fist, and brought it to her jaw, not stopping, making her head snap to the right. Then, he took his left hand, and slapped her, making her head snap to the left this time. She stumbled back, dazed with the sudden pain which she was sure that she had escaped from during the school year. But he was faster, and he pulled her back into the shadows where no one could see them, and he grabbed her wrist harshly, and clamped a large hand over her mouth, preventing her from screaming out, took his other arm, and started strangling her.  
  
She couldn't breathe anymore, and her face was slowly turning red. Her arms were flailing around, and she kneaded him as hard as she could in the nearest spot, which, unfortunately for him, was his groin. He gasped, but his grip didn't loosen. In fact, it seemed to tighten. Finally when she felt like she was about to pass out, he let go of her.  
  
He grabbed her shoulder tightly, and hissed into her ear, "If you tell anyone, you will be sorry. You will be dead by the time I'm finished with you. Watch your mouth."  
  
With that, he shoved her forward, causing her to stumble into the light, and fall on her side. She knew that a fresh bruise was already forming there because his push was so bloody hard. People were looking at her with questions or their face, or just plain disgust. She staggered back through Platform 9¾, and slowly made her way back to the Heads' Compartment.  
  
She walked into the compartment she was to share with the Head Boy, and found, who else, but......  
  
"Malfoy," she spat.  
  
He didn't say anything. She tried to figure out why, by looking at his face. She could feel his steely gaze on her face and her neck. Her face and her neck, her face and her neck, her face and her neck. HER FACE AND HER NECK!  
  
"Shit!" she swore loudly.  
  
She had forgotten to cover up the new wounds, and so now, he could see them. Duh, they were in broad daylight!  
  
"Uhh... I g-gotta go......somewhere to do......something..." she stuttered.  
  
He just stared, eyes wide pale face calm.  
  
"What happened to you?" he whispered his first words to her that day.  
  
"Uhh...."  
  
She racked through her mind, trying to think of a good excuse in time.  
  
"I fell down the stairs." She swore silently to herself. It was the same old, same old. Falling down stairs. Maybe he'll accept that as an answer? Sure hope he does.  
  
"Granger. Really. What happened to you? Who did that to you?" said Malfoy indicating her facial regions.  
  
Never mind about maybe. "I told you. I fell down the stairs." She snapped. Why'd he have to be so fucking smart? Dammit. He'd find out for sure now.  
  
"Granger, I'm not stupid. Stairs don't make hand marks like that on faces, and lines like that on necks."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to find out myself?"  
  
"I already told you. I FELL DOWN THE BLOODY STAIRS!"  
  
Hermione could hear the worry in his voice. He really did care. Maybe she could trust him, and tell him. WAIT! This is MALFOY! A Slytherin, who hates me! Why would he care? She was really hoping that he would accept her answer. Then again, hoping is a dangerous thing to do.  
  
Yes! Draco has changed! For good or for bad? Well, duh. Use your noodle. I'd like reviews. Constructivism still welcome. Thanx! I know people are wondering why she even went back in the first place. It's just the way the damn story goes guys! Plus, she thinks that if she didn't go, he would kill her during the summer, so she decides to go now, and get it over with. Yeah......  
  
I bought my first Yellowcard CD the other day when I was in DC!!!! Woohoo! Yeah! Yellowcard is awesome! Sorry. I just got a little carried away there... 


	5. The new Draco

Disclaimer: Do I really need to tell you that I don't own Harry Potter? I mean, I would just be stating the obvious......  
  
Last Time: Hermione could hear the worry in his voice. He really did care. Maybe she could trust him, and tell him. WAIT! This is MALFOY! A Slytherin, who hates me! Why would he care? She was really hoping that he would accept her answer. Then again, hoping is a dangerous thing to do.  
  
Draco sighed and leaned back. He ran his hand through his platinum blond hair. He had changed. He was no longer the power-hungry, rude, snobby boy he was once. He used to believe that becoming a Death Eater would be the most amazing thing. But when he went to one of the meetings during the summer with his dad, he had realized how much he himself despised Voldemort. He had seen his father tremble as he bowed in front of the Dark Lord, as if pleading for his life. They all lived in fear of this one man, who was so weak, yet so powerful.  
  
His thoughts wandered aimlessly to Hermione Granger. Those....marks on her face and neck were gruesome. They were purple and black. There was some blood dribbling slowly down the corner of her mouth, and she looked absolutely terrible. She had been so pale, so.........damaged. He wanted to walk over to her and comfort her. He wanted to lend her a shoulder to cry on. But he couldn't. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy's were not allowed to have any feelings. Malfoy's weren't supposed to have anything to do with Mudbloods. He winced. Using that word made him feel uncomfortable. He had started to view those who were Muggle-born just as equal as purebloods. I mean, take Hermione for example. She has muggles as both of her parents, and yet, she manages to turn up as number in their year. She had even been ahead of himself.  
  
He sighed, and got slowly to his feet. Maybe he should go find her and see if she was okay. 'Yeah, sounds good.' He thought to himself.  
  
He moved to the door and slid it open. He walked out, and crashed into a girl at least one foot shorter than him. The girl looked up, and Draco found himself staring into the bright, round, brown eyes of Hermione Granger.  
  
"Sorry" she whispered hoarsely.  
  
Draco peered into her eyes, and could tell they were red, probably from crying. The marks that he had seen on her face before were gone, and her face was the same creamy pale complexion, free from any scratches.  
  
"It's alright" he managed.  
  
With that, she walked in, and sat down on the seat closest to the window. She drew her legs up under her, and sat, facing the outside. Her hair was no longer bushy, but had soft curls. Her hair looked sort of wispy from lack of the proper nutrients. Her body had shrunk from a healthy form to an extremely small shape. She was wearing low-rise muggle, hip hugger jeans, and he could see her hip bone jut out sharply.  
  
Hermione felt his intense gaze on her back, and asked, "What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"OK."  
  
After a couple of minutes of silence, she felt the seat next to her cave in from the new weight that it carried. She knew who sat there.  
  
"Granger?" he whispered in a caring voice. "What happened?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"It's okay, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone"  
  
Still no reply.  
  
"I've changed." He heard himself pleading with her.  
  
Finally, she turned around to face him, hurt and sadness in her eyes.  
  
"How can I trust you? How can I be sure that you've changed?"  
  
Draco sighed. This was going to take a long time to explain.  
  
"Well, you see. I know how I used to be all snobby and rude and everything, but, I really have changed. I...... well...... I don't know how to put it..."  
  
"I don't want you to 'put it'. I just want you to tell me why you've changed."  
  
"Alright, alright. I'll put this as simple as I can. My father brought me along to one of the Death Eater meetings. That was when I still believed that the Dark side was amazing. I saw them each step up to the Dark Lord, and bend down. They all were shaking with fright, and I thought maybe it was just them. Maybe they were just cowards...... but I was proved wrong when my father, whom I have always thought was the bravest man, stepped up, quaking, also. I looked in his eyes, and I could see the fear. But I also saw the loyalty that lay in him. The worship that he threw towards that freak. The love and desire to serve him. That was when I realized that I didn't want to be like my father. That's when I apprehended that everything I was brought up to believe was nonsense. It doesn't matter what someone's background is. It doesn't matter whether someone has a different skin color or heritage. It doesn't matter if someone has brown, blonde, or red hair. It doesn't matter whether someone has green or blue eyes. What really matters is that the person is truthful, and doesn't try to be someone they aren't. That's when I changed." Draco finished his explanation.  
  
Silence.  
  
Draco drew in a breath. She, Hermione Granger was the first person that he had told this to. "Well?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"Well? Aren't you going to explain to me now why you're in the condition that you're in?" Draco asked, curious.  
  
At that moment, an announcement was made that they were going to reach Hogwarts any moment, and that they needed to change into their school robes. So much for explaining.  
  
Hermione released the breath that she was holding. She didn't need to explain anything to him. But.......Heads share a common room.  
  
'Just great' Hermione thought dryly. 'More time for him to bother me with questions.'  
  
She got up quickly and headed for the compartment door. Before she could slide it open, she felt a pair of strong, yet gentle hands on her arm, right where her father had grabbed just this morning. She winced at the gentle contact.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She drew in a small breath. He had said her name. It didn't sound awkward at all coming off of his tongue. It just rolled off. Like water over a smooth stone. That one word that was filled with so many mixed emotions. Pain, concern, curiosity, sadness. She shook her head 'no', and pulled her arm out of his grasp and exited. He hadn't restrained her from leaving. He didn't put any unneeded force on her. She liked his touch. It made her skin feel warm and tingly.  
  
She went to the bathroom to change. The compartment she was supposed to stay in was occupied by the person she least wanted to be with at the moment. Well, actually, the second least.  
  
As she changed, she couldn't get the face of a certain someone out of her face. A certain person by the name of Draco Malfoy. His cool, grey eyes boring into her, searching her soul deeply. His eyes weren't hard, but had a wall covering them, giving them an I'm-not-here-in-my-soul kind of look.  
  
She shook her head. This was all too strange. But all the while, she couldn't get the fact that maybe he had changed. But.........no. Maybe this was all a dream, and if she pinched herself, she would wake. Maybe it was real...... Maybe, just maybe he really did care. But......'maybe' was a strong word...  
  
I tried.................. I think I need help. I think, I think.....But I do know something for sure. I love reviews. For sure. Most defiantely. 


	6. Prospect of a long year

Disclaimer: I do not frikin own Harry Potter. And if anyone thinks this is a rather sick story, LIVE WITH IT! No one's making you read it, so DON'T!  
  
Last Time: She shook her head. This was all too strange. But all the while, she couldn't get the fact that maybe he had changed. But.........no. Maybe this was all a dream, and if she pinched herself, she would wake. Maybe it was real...... Maybe, just maybe he really did care. But......'maybe' was a strong word...  
  
The train slowly pulled to a stop, and Hermione gathered her clothes and walked, waiting for everyone to leave. She ran into the compartment she had shared, and quickly collected the rest of her stuff, and slowly made her way towards the horseless carriages that would take them to the school. She quickly found Ron and Harry, and they hopped into the closest carriage.  
  
"Hey 'Mione." Ron exclaimed, obviously over-thrilled to be going back to Hogwarts.  
  
"Hey to you too Ron!"  
  
"How's it going Hermione?"  
  
"Fine, really Harry."  
  
"How was your summer?"  
  
"Absolutely perfect" lied Hermione. She felt guilty. She was lying to her own best friends. Ron and Harry. The two people who have helped her through a lot of tough situations.  
  
Harry seemed convinced by this reply, and so did Ron.  
  
"so... you're Head Girl this year 'Mione?"  
  
"Yeah... I'll really miss staying in the common room at night after classes, talking about nothing in particular..."  
  
"Me too."  
  
All three of them sighed, and Ron sprang the question that had been bothering him the most.  
  
"'Mione, who's Head Boy?"  
  
"Well Ron, you're not going to believe it, but it's Malfoy."  
  
Ron and Harry both inhaled sharply. Their worst fear was confirmed. They knew that Malfoy hated Hermione with all his heart, and that Hermione returned those feelings.  
  
"Oh" was all that Harry and Ron managed to breath. They had both paled, and Hermione could tell that they highly disliked this.  
  
"It's alright guys, really. I can take care of myself you know. I'm not Head Girl for nothing..."  
  
"Ron, she's right" admitted Harry.  
  
Hermione looked hopefully at the two. They nodded. They knew she was capable of looking after herself. Hermione smiled weakly. This was going to be a long year.  
  
Sorry it's so short. I tried making it interesting. Honestly.................... 


	7. Welcome Back

Oh wow. It's been SUCH a long time, since I decided to stop this story. But you know what?! After much consideration to what people said, I decided to continue. I'm terribly sorry to anyone who thinks my actions are rash. A little late there, but that's okay – I guess. Although I do admit. When I look back at all my chapters now, the writing seems kinnda choppy…Probably still is.

Disclaimer: nope. Not me.

So…… to all those still reading, or willing to, here's chapter 7.

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Chapter 7:

The incessant chattering that reached Hermione's ears as she walked through the door of the Great Hall, brought a first, although small, honest-to-god smile to her face. Reaching the Gryffindor table, she plopped down on a bench next to Harry and Ron. She sighed happily, just thankful to be back here at Hogwarts. The only place that she truly felt safe.

Professor McGonagall walked through the large doors, and everyone turned their attention to her, and the scared, small first years trailing her uncertainly. McGonagall strode to a small platform, where the Sorting Hat sat on a small stool. She unrolled a thick piece of parchment, and cleared her throat in a very business-like manner.

"When I call your name, please come up and sit down here on this bench. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your house.

"Abscot, Julienne."

Julienne shyly shuffled up. "HUFFLEPUFF!" screamed the hat. Julienne half-walked, half-jogged her way over to the Hufflepuff table, where they were all cheering.

And so it continued until all the new kids were sorted.

Dumbledore stood up, and Hermione's solemn face grew into a full grin.

"Students. If I may have your attention!" The room quieted at once.

"This is the beginning of a new year. A year, of which I hope you make good decisions. Choices for yourself, your friends, your fellow students, and your teachers. But, don't forget to have fun." His eyes twinkled merrily in the light, making him seem at least 5 years younger. "On a more serious note, the Forbidden Forrest is off limits, and if I or any other professor catches you, believe me when I say you're in trouble. But, back to the merriments! Enjoy the wonderful feast!"

With that, he sat down, and food appeared on every plate, and drinks filled every goblet. People turned around, towards their friends, and started talking again. What they did over the summer. How they hoped not to have a certain class with a certain house. About how much they hated that teacher, and meeting the new first years.

Hermione sat at her table. Ron on her right, and Harry to her left.

"So. What'd you do over the summer, 'Mione?"

"Oh…… ummm…… nothing. You know. The usual. Hang around." Hermione replied, suddenly uncomfortable. 'They don't know anything. They can't know. No. They don't need to know.' She repeated to herself silently.

"OK! That's awesome!" cheered an oblivious Ron.

Harry just sat there. "Hermione…? Is there anything wrong? What happened? You're…different. If there's anything wrong, you know you can tell me."

"Oh, no, Harry. There's absolutely nothing wrong! Everything's just peachy-fine! Honestly! You don't need to worry about me!" protested Hermione.

Harry stared, obviously unconvinced. "Sure. Whatever. Just remember what I said."

"I'm fine Harry. No need to worry."

Later that evening, the three friends sat amidst the whole Gryffindor House, in couches in front of the blazing, warm fire. Staring into the fire. Their last year.

Suddenly, the clock chimes, 9 o'clock.

"Oh, gosh! I have to go now. Ill see you guys tomorrow." Hermione exclaimed before rushing out the portrait.

In the hallway, Hermione stood there, trying to remember where Professor McGonagall had told her the Head Dormitories were.

'umm……over here. And then there.' She directed herself.

Within 8 minutes, she had managed to find her way to the entrance.

"Password, dearie?" the old lady in the portrait croaked.

"Oh. 'Tomorrow always Comes.'"

"Thanks, darling" the woman said, as she swung open.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed as she stepped in.

The room was magnificent. With high, cathedral ceilings, and walls of deep maroon with silver edges. There were plush, inviting couches in front of a large, marble fireplace. Inside it, there was already an almighty fire going. Mahogany tables stood on two opposing sides of the room. One for each of the Heads to work at. There were two separate stairs, connecting at the top, and leading to a landing. On the right, was a door labeled, "Head Boy". On the left, was another door, exactly the same, except it read, "Head Girl." At the bottom of the stairs though, was a gigantic bookshelf, stacked to the brim with novels and books. Muggle, and wizard authors alike.

Hermione squealed, ran to the bookshelf, pulled the first book she found off the shelf, bounded up the stairs, and burst into her room. She closed her door, took a deep breath, and ran to the enormous king-sized bed.

"Ahhh… yes" she sighed. "This is the life."

Suddenly, her world started spinning, and her head felt light-headed. "Gosh. I'm so exhausted. Might as well go to sleep now" she trailed off……and fell into a deep slumber.

A/N: Oh, Jesus, that was terrible. I got back on a terrible start. Ok. Don't kill me. And please review, so I can have some suggestions as to how I can make my next chapter, and this one better. Thanx so much!

shortsandshirts


	8. What are bathrooms for?

Abusing Emotions: Chapter 8

Ok. So for the last chapter, I only got like, one review. Apparently, my insanity has driven away all my former readers. Woe on me. Anyways, here's another chappie, and it took a while, with all that's been going on in my life. But keep up the reviews, and I'll update sooner. It's a bribe, yes, but I don't know if it's going to work. Let's just keep our fingers crossed.

I don't own HP. And if anyone questions, I will seriously, boot their ass to Mars.

Weasley's Girl-35: THANK YOU SOOO… MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!! You were the only one. Those ideas weren't bad. Actually, I think I might use one of them. Shh… I tell not which one… You'll just have to wait, read, and see.

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Hermione woke up, at 5 o'clock am sharp.

'God dammit!' she thought angrily. 'Why the hell am I up so early?!'

She rolled over, and tried to get back to sleep, but found that…sleep wasn't going to be coming anytime soon. So she got up, and stomped over to her closet. She found some clothes, and headed for the bathroom. Today was a Saturday. So that meant no classes. She went into the bathroom, and closed the door softly with a 'click'. She turned around, and put her stuff on the counter, stripped, and climbed into the shower. Unfortunately, she neglected to make sure that the door leading to a certain Slytherin's room was locked…

Draco woke up at around 5:15 am.

'Dammit!' he thought angrily. (Did ya notice that good ol 'Mione there said the same thing? I couldn't think of anything else. That's how limited my creativity is.) 'Might as well make the most of it,' He though after realizing that he wasn't tired anymore.

He heard the shower running, and grinned. Even though he had changed, the same old sly streak was there. He got up, and noiselessly crept over to the bathroom door. He tested the door. 'Ahhh…' he thought wickedly. 'Silly girl. Forgot to lock the door. Well, might as well give her something to remember for the rest of her day.'

He opened the door, careful not to make any noises. He saw her stuff on the counter, and strolled over casually, as if going for a walk.

Suddenly, the shower stopped. Usually, people would panic and run for it if they were about to be caught sneaking in on someone in the shower. But, alas, many seem to forget that Draco Malfoy is not your usual person.

He heard Hermione step out, and he nonchalantly leaned across the counter.

He put on his smirk.

Suddenly, Hermione appeared from behind the curtain, with her towel wrapped around her chest. She looked up…and started screaming.

"MALFOY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BATHROOM?!"

In case the author never mentioned before (that foolish child. Tsk tsk.), the two Heads share a bathroom.

Malfoy was going to correct Hermione little mistake about the shared bathroom, but found that he was incapable of the action. He couldn't move his mouth. He couldn't form any words, and nothing would come out. (Basically, easily put, he was speechless. Me and my bad writing…)

His eyes were glued on Hermione's bare arms.

Suddenly, Hermione snapped, as if jolting out of a dream, when she noticed where Malfoy was staring.

She made a mad rush for her door, clutching at her towel the whole time.

But, to terrible doom, Malfoy was quicker.

Her hand was on the doorknob, about to turn it, when Malfoy's strong hands stopped her.

"Granger…?" His voice trailed off quietly and uncertain.

She didn't reply.

"Granger," this time he sounded more sure of himself, and solid.

"Y-Yes?" she stuttered.

"What happened? Tell me. You're hiding something from me. I knew it on the train, and it's clear as day now."

"Ther-there's nothing wrong."

"Bullshit!" he exclaimed loudly enough to make her jump a little.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"It's k…"

"So, wanna share?"

"I told you! There's nothing wrong with me!" she argued. "Just leave me alone!"

"Granger…"

"Just leave me alone."

She wrenched her hand away from his warm grip, and he reluctantly let her go. He didn't want to push anything.

She grabbed her stuff, and ran through the door, slamming it behind her.

Draco sighed.

How would he ever get her to trust him? He wanted to help. It hit him. He wanted to help Hermione Granger. Goody-goody Gryffindor Granger, not to mention a mudblood.

'I guess I really AM changing. I don't know if it's for good or not. Father's influence really wasn't a way to go…'

This year was going to be tough. Battling feelings and expectations one for one. He didn't know how he was going to make it.

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Whew-ee! That was forced. It was TERRIBLE! But at least something happened. Like, I ran dry out of ideas after like, the whole 'I'm-in-the-bathroom' thingy. I probably need more ideas on how to continue, and what would be most enjoyable for viewing pleasure. Thanx!

me.


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